Kittensitting
by MinervaEvenstar
Summary: Schwartz kidnaps Omi and it's Nagi's job to kittensit him. What will happen when the two computer experts are left alone together?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Weiss Kreuz, but I'll gladly take Omi and Nagi!

_Minerva's Note:_ The prologue and epilogue are told in third person and the inbetweenchapters are shown from the alternating perspectives of Nagi and Omi.

_**Kitten-sitting**_

Prologue

Omi was humming in his usual cheerful manner as he ambled back to the flower shop. He had just walked a short distance to deliver a dozen petunias to a customer.

Suddenly, he thought he sensed something behind him. He instinctively reached for a dart and was about to turn around when a cloth covered his nose and mouth. It smelled strange and caused Omi's vision to become hazy. Vaguely, he realised he was being pushed into a car. Then he knew no more.

_My arms hurt,_ is the first thought that came to Omi's groggy mind several hours later. Opening his eyes, he discovered that his wrists were bound to a bar on the ceiling, suspending him in midair, of what appeared to be the efficiently furnished sitting room of a large flat. The room did not possess the cozy, lived-in aura that most similar rooms did. In fact, it was so unnaturally cold and stiff that being comfortable seemed forbidden. Perhaps it was the lack of windows and pictures adorning the walls or the absence of books and trinkets littering the coffee table. The room had all that it required and naught more.

"Mamoru!" a voice snapped, forcing Omi to cease focusing on the atmosphere of the room and look at the people inside of it instead.

Schuldich was smirking smugly. Farfarello was gliding his tongue across a blade. Nagi was staring at the eerily blank walls, seemingly bored. Crawford was regarding Omi, so it must have been him who had spoken. They were all too far away for him to kick. Weiss had speculated they were killed in the Esstet incident two weeks ago. Apparently not.

"I'm not a Takatori! I'm-"

"Bombay. Whatever." Crawford waved his hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter who you are because you and the rest of Weiss will soon be dead anyway. You all are assenting too much of a nuisance to us to live, but eliminating you is proving slightly more difficult than we'd guessed, and we haven't the time to analyze you. If you give us the information we need to destroy your teammates we'll make your death quicker and less painful."

"I'm not that weak or selfish. I won't tell you anything!" replied Omi bravely.

The smirk on Schuldich's face broadened. "I can easily get the info without your cooperation. Then we can kill you as leisurely as we want and you'll wish you had told us."

"Do it then," Omi said fiercely. Well, fierce for Omi.

"If you don't change your mind we will," assured Crawford lazily cleaning his spectacles on his shirt, more for dramatic effect than necessity, before replacing them on the bridge of his nose. "Right now we have other business to attend to."

Farfarello muttered, "I know we're all packed and ready to go be body guards for that fat Swedish man for the week, but we can't leave the kitten of Weiss here alone."

"True." Crawford thought for a moment. "Nagi, you stay here with him."

Nagi glanced at Crawford, the first movement he had made since Omi had been conscious. "What?"

"You're not deaf. You heard me."

"Why do I have to kitten-sit?"

"As the leader I must go. We'll need Schuldich to read the minds of people around our client to determine who means him harm. If Farfarello stays with him there won't be anything left to question of Bombay when we return. That leaves you."

"But-"

"No 'buts,' Nagi." He, farfarello, and Schuldich grabbed their suitcases and headed towards the door. "You can't kill Bombay or torture him to the point of being unable to provide us with the erudition. Other than that feel free to punish him as you see fit if he misbehaves."

"Or if you just want to have fun," added Schuldich with a wink as the threesome departed.

Nagi slowly turned away from the exit to face Omi.

The young Weiss member braced himself for pain. He was immensely stupefied when he felt the pressure on his wrists release and he was dropped unceremoniously to the floor.

Pointing to one of the six doorways stemming out of the sitting room Nagi monotonously informed, "That's the guestroom. You sleep there. The room next to yours is the bathroom. The others are our bedrooms, so stay out if you know what's good for you. The eat-in kitchen is next to this room. Breakfast is at eight, lunch is at half passed twelve, and dinner is at six. If you're not in there when I cook I won't feed you 'cause I don't care wether you're hungry or not. The whole apartment is full of detectors of my own design; the only thing trying to escape would do is annoy me. It wouldn't help you. Any questions?"

Omi watched his archenemy warily. "Why are you being nice to me?" _Well, **almost** nice,_ he thought. Reflexively, he felt to see if he still had his darts. He didn't.

Nagi smiled thinly, though there was no warmth or joy in it. "No one in Schwartz is 'nice.' The others are unnecessarily cruel, while I am just ruthless. What's wrong? Do you want to be attached to the ceiling for an entire week?"

"No," Omi quickly responded, not desiring to exert his captor's indubitably limited amount of generosity.

"I'll keep that in mind." Nagi strolled into his bedchamber without another word.

Whether Nagi's last statement was a threat of a promise of consideration Omi could not deduce.

_Minerva's Note:_ There! Is it interesting so far? I won't update unless I have…ah…4 reviews!


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One _Nagi's perspective_

I concocted fruit salad for breakfast the following morning. I invariably found it a healthy way to get the brain working at the beginning of the day. Bombay had not taken a bite of his. He kept staring at it like he expected it to grow legs and devour him.

"If I poisoned this do you really think I'd be eating it too?" I asked crisply. Truthfully, I did not blame him for being suspicious. If our places were reversed I would also have been mistrusting.

Haltingly Bombay picked up his fork and ate his meal. "Hey, I feel fine!" he declared to no one in particular with the enthusiasm of a toddler.

He was always so damn chipper. It irritated me, however, I felt my heartbeat speed up regardless. I was attracted to Bombay and I could freely admit that to myself for it was affection, not attraction, which would make me hesitate to kill a person.

Since my childhood was laden with everything except carefree naivety I was drawn towards peers that had managed to retain some of their innocence, as I was unable to do. Tot had been undoubtedl_y_ child-like, however, she never understood anything I said about literature or computers and I wasn't ever going to be interesting in playing with her toy rabbit. We cared for one another, but after a while we became aware that we were not right for each other. Bombay was nescient as well as intelligent, yet I would not allow my lust to turn into love in this case. It would be suicide.

I ignored him and sat on the immalleable settee with a novel open on my lap.

After courteously placing the dishes in the sink in an unorthodox display of helpfulness Bombay inquired, "What can I do around here when I'm bored?"

"Watch T.V., sleep, read," I suggested without looking up from the pages I was intently gazing at. "No computer, of course. You could contact your teammates with it."

"No good shows are on until later, I'm not tired, and I read only for information, not pleasure," Omi cheerfully explained.

"That's your problem," I responded coldly.

Not to have his typical bubbly mood burst that easily, he sat beside me and queried, "Prodigy, what are you reading?"

Books and computers were the closest things I had to friends, thus I frequently desired to discuss them, though Schuldich, Farfarello, and Crawford were never intrigued. Bombay seemed genuinely curious. There was no hazard in partaking in a conversation with him, right? I was supposed to supervise him and what better way than to have him focused of something of my preference?

"It's called Dragon Wing. One of the main characters is a hired assassin."

"Really?" Bombay leaned forward, eager to hear more. His breath smelled of the citrus we'd eaten and for a second I felt light-headed.

I nodded, keeping my expression blank, as it should be, despite the fact that I was addled and glad that he exhibited interest. An emotionless person is more difficult to manipulate and I do my best to remain that way. "His name is Hugh. The plot starts with him about to be executed, but the king wants to hire him so he isn't butchered. The king tells Hugh to assassinate his son Bane. Hugh is surprised that the prince is young and cute. Being a cold and efficient mercenary, Hugh won't admit to himself that he likes the boy. Nevertheless he's fond of him and when they're alone he can't bring himself to destroy him. He should've slaughtered Bane when he had the chance 'cause the prince is clever and finds out that Hugh was going to murder him, so he tries to poison Hugh. Bane should not have been underestimated as a helpless child."

Omi gasped, "Does Hugh die?"

"Bane doesn't finish him off, but he does die later in the story with slightly more honour than you'd expect." My words echoed around the room ominously and it only then occurred to me how much that tale reminded me of the current situation.

_Minerva's Note:_ This chapter is short, I know. I promise some of the others will be longer. Since you all were so wonderful about reviewing last time I won't demand reviews this time and simply hope that I receive some! Love to all!


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two _Omi's perspective_

Nagi seldom spoke unless he was spoken to and when he did it was customarily in a voice devoid of excitability accompanied by a gelid expression. I wished Nagi were more open, for I'd have loved to see emotion shine through those beautiful eyes. I know most males don't want anaught about themselves to be considered 'beautiful,' but that's what Nagi was. He had a powerful mind and a strong will in an exquisitely delicate body. The majority of boys do not notice those sorts of things about each other. This was simply more evidence to indicate what I already knew: that I was gay.

I'd loved Ouka, of course, and still wanted revenge for her death, however, I never cared for her the same way that I could discern she did for me. I loved her as a friend and when she continuously illustrated that she had romantic feelings for me I finally decided to kiss her to bring her happiness because that is what friends do for each other. That's why when we discovered we were related Ouka was heartbroken and I was glad.

The rapid clicks Nagi's fingertips caused as they skimmed across the keyboard distracted me from my thoughts. His hands were nice too. He possessed long slim fingers like mine; ideal for working with a computer, yet his were paler from his lack of activity in the sunlight. My mind imagined more interesting tasks than typing Nagi's dexterous fingers could do.

"Bombay, are you sick or something?"

"No." My cheeks reddened, knowing my eyes must have been glazed over since I'd permitted my thoughts to wander to places they shouldn't go, especially not about my sworn adversary. God, what was wrong with me? Aya would be furious if he knew. I hoped he, Ken, and Yoji weren't too worried about me.

Nagi's placid gaze shifted from me to the monitor again. He had not even turned his head in order to regard me. Nagi never moved unless it was necessary. I speculated that derived from not needing to move much because he wielded a talent for telekinesis. Instead of giving the false impression that he was lazy Nagi's lack of motion drew more attention to the phenomenon that his every movement contained a purpose and was flawlessly poised and graceful. It added to his beauty.

I wondered why he did not type with his psyche; I knew he turned book pages with them. I decided to ask. "How come you don't hit the keys using your gift?"

Without taking his eyes off of the screen he responded, "As anyone with any sense knows the human mind thinks of things faster than the body can do them. What isn't common knowledge is that when reading the mentality doesn't process each letter individually, but the word as a whole, which is why misspelled words are often still understandable. As a result, when I try to transcribe with my mind it attempts to hit too many keys at once because it is pondering an entire word, not each letter. If I concentrate I can use my telekinetic powers, but in this particular case using my hands is easier-" Nagi's brisk tone abruptly paused. "I'm boring you, aren't I?"

"No," I said truthfully, shaking my head to emphasise the point.

Aloofly, he affirmed, "Crawford, Farfarello, or Schuldich would have told me to shut-up if I lectured them like that."

"Don't worry, I asked 'cause I wanted to know. I'm starting to figure out why they call you Prodigy." I meant it. I prayed that Nagi would consider my comment in the positive way that I intended. _How much does his brain weigh? His vocabulary is amazing, especially when he's talking about data! Know-it-alls are usually annoying, but something about Nagi's intellect is...sexy._ I didn't wish to be friends with Nagi. I could kill him if I needed to and I realised that he would have no qualms about killing me, however, I did want us to be more than enemies who felt uncomfortable being in the same place. Ken says that my friendly nature will get me into trouble someday, but that's probably merely on account of him and his comrade, Kase, having a poor relationship.

Nagi appeared slightly taken aback as if he was unaccustomed to receiving compliments. Then his features were unreadable again. "Let's see how well you type." He erected himself and I took his place in the leather computer chair that was still heated from his body. "This is only a history essay I'm submitting to a website, so there's no harm in letting you see it."

After perusing the paper one single time I transcribed several paragraphs without requiring another glance at it. I was acutely aware of Nagi standing beside me as cold and immobile as a statue.

Eventually he picked up one of my pinkies with his forefinger and thumb and placed it upon a different button. "It would be simpler if you started with this digit there." His skin was as soft and smoothed as it looked. He had not ever touched me before, for even when we battled there had been no need, and I felt my ears burn.

He stared at my flushed flesh like he had never found anything so fascinating. I was oblivious to the reason of the unexpected attentiveness. He stood behind me and covered each of my hands with one of his own. Next, he ran his fingertips up my arms painfully slowly until he reached my face. He couldn't see it, though he must have been able to feel how searing hot it had become considering the notion that he inquired, "Do you always blush so easily, Omi?" His voice was not monotonous as it usually was; yet I could not begin to fathom whatever affectivities were in it. The hands drifted up through my hair and then disappeared completely.

Swiftly, I spun around in the seat to view Nagi's face, but I could not since he was strolling out of the room. All I witnessed was the back of his head.

I inhaled deeply to return my accelerated heart rate to normal. Only when I was calmer did I recognise that Nagi had referred to me by actual name. I had been here for three days and that was the first time he had done it. I enjoyed hearing my name come from his lips. Possibly, I luxuriated in it more than was appropriate.

My body shivered and I did not comprehend why, though I knew it wasn't from fear or disgust. I was getting into something that might be unwise and I had little hope of getting out of it. I was too engrossed to want to get out of it.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three _Nagi's perspective_

I should not have done what I did yesterday, but I was unable to help myself. When I touched Omi's hand and he blushed simultaneously I had the irrepressible need to discover if the two instances were related, for no one ever tinged under my touch before. I'd even slipped and referred to him as 'Omi' aloud and I could not currently cease calling him that within the confines of my mind. I must admit that the name felt perfect on my tongue somehow.

Anyway, the moment it had come to my attention that I'd addressed him by that label I had exited the room. Omi was apparently unperturbed by my actions, or he'd actually enjoyed them because he was using my name and smiling more than was his prevalent wont.

"Want some help cooking dinner, Nagi?" offered Omi.

Help? No one ever volunteered to help me and I never dreamt of requesting it. The world dumped shit on me and I dealt with it. I could cope with almost anything unaided since I had received so much unwanted practise. Neutrally, I informed, "I've got in under control."

"Are you sure? I feel bad about you being the one to cook everyday."

"I'm used to it. I always cook for my teammates. Schuldich won't, Crawford is too busy, and we can't trust Farfarello around flames."

"Really? Your food is delicious, so the must be very grateful." He bounced further into the kitchen to watch me make the shrimp scampi abstaining the use of my hands. When I gave an almost inconceivable shrug in response Omi gasped, "You mean they don't compliment you, or even thank you?"

"No. Why should they?" I commented, unconcerned. "Running a household is like running a mission: everyone does their part and if they screw up they get punished; if they do what they're supposed to they don't need a gold star."

"We don't congratulate one another for everything that we do either, but we support each other. You guys do that, don't you?"

"Of course we do. On business."

"Only on missions? Not in life?"

"They leave me alone and I leave them alone. That's the way we like it...Unless Schuldich is in the mood to irritate me. Consider yourself lucky you never lived with a telepath."

"They're not your friends?" For rationalisations I could not commence to interpret he behaved as if such an idea was unbearably tragic. Why was friendship so important to him? I never needed it. Wanted it? Well, maybe. Perhaps the most miniscule bit, but never _needed_ it.

"Definitely not. I want no part of their hobbies. Schuldich likes sex and ruining lives. He combines them both when he can. Farfarello likes hurting God. Crawford...He's known me since I was quite young, so I guess he's more than a colleague like the other two are. He's a detached, logical perfectionist."

"He's known you that long? Wow! How'd you meet him?"

My past was certainly a topic of conversation I desired to avoid. I had inadvertently revealed too much already since Omi was such an easy individual to talk to. He was honest, sincere, and genuinely interested in what I had to say. Not to mention the condition that he had offered to assist me. It was difficult for me to grasp the concept that Omi might appreciate me as a person and not just appreciate my skills as Schwarz did, however, I could speculate no other explanation for his bahaviour. Albeit, I would not allow myself to become too close to him, for what good would come of it? "You pry too much," I snapped.

He glanced down at his feet. "Sorry."

_Damn, I didn't mean to upset him. Wait! When did I start caring about anyone's feelings, much less his?_ I shook my head slightly, telling myself to get a grip.

"Nagi?" Omi put his hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay? You never shake your head for no reason." Unbelievable. He actually took the time to notice things pertaining to me and was worried about me? _He must have an ulterior motive._ I gazed into his eyes searching for a sign of deviousness, yet there was naught to be found. His eyes were a unique and enchanting hue. Cerulean, I decided. A sigh of warm, sweet breath against my face roused me from my reverie. "Nagi?" Omi repeated.

I pulled back from him slightly, needing to escape from whatever he was doing to me. "I'm fine," I stated as coldly as I could manage. "If you really want to help you can put the rice balls on the table. They'll be done now."

Omi smiled and suddenly it was difficult to stand. It was equal to my knees becoming weak like a girl's. How ridiculous! Yes, I was _mildly_ attracted to him, though I did NOT have a pathetic schoolgirl crush. Thankfully, Omi was eager to do what I'd suggested and moved away from me.

After a meal during which I felt too awkward to speak very much Omi jovially recommended, "Let's do something together."

"Like what?" I inquired cautiously.

Evidently contemplating aloud to himself at first, he murmured, "We could watch a movie, but he'd be emotionless the entire time. - I know! We can hack into a government system."

"Why?"

"It's something we're both good at. Besides, I love hacking and Aya only lets me do it for work. Please! I won't be able to use the computer to get in touch with Weiss for help if you're with me." He looked so hopeful. His large enthralling eyes were wobbly and his bottom lip was stuck out in a pout.

I could have rejected that face. I'm absolutely 100 positive that I could have, though I chose to agree and was not disappointed by the adorably gleeful reaction that my reply caused.

We sat adjacent to one another in front of the monitor, both of us pointedly ignoring that our knees were touching. Within minutes we had overcome the pitiful security system and had access to all sorts of confidential federal files. We would not use them; we'd simply wanted the challenge of getting them. I could have done it by myself; however, it would have taken me numerous seconds longer without his assistance.

Omi declared, "We make a good team."

The corners of my mouth palpitated; not enough to be determined a smile. "Yes, we do."


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four _Omi's perspective_

Screaming. I awoke to the sound of screaming. Only when I regained consciousness did I realise it was my own.

"Omi?" The door to the guestroom opened to expose Nagi with the light from the rest of the flat to act as a background that illuminated the black satin pyjamas he was wearing. His voice sounded curious rather than concerned, though someone that had gotten the opportunity to observe him for an extended period of time like me would have known he was from his fairly tense posture.

"Just a dream," I explained softly. Instinctively, I drew my legs to my chest and hugged my knees due to the reality that I was still shaken from my nightmare and I wanted to hide myself from Nagi. My fellow Weiss members would have yenned that I hadn't displayed weakness in front of a nemesis, though I could not withhold the impulse, for there wasn't even a remote possibility that I looked half as elegant as he did at that moment. Not a strand of his chocolate brown hair was out of place and since I'd been sleeping I knew mine must have been atrocious. Why didn't his hair become untidy when he slept? Had he been asleep?

"I'd let you use the phone to call your friends since our line is untraceable, but it only works for voices it recognises. I programmed it that way."

"Oh, that's why it didn't work. That's brilliant." When he blinked in surprise I said, "You didn't think I wouldn't try to contact my team, did you?" Without awaiting a response I reiterated to myself, "Just a dream."

"About your childhood? Schuldich told us it wasn't that great."

Peering at the floor and recollecting the kidnappers, I nodded mutely.

"That happens to me."

"You picture my childhood?"

"No. Mine." His articulation insinuated that he found the question idiotic.

I was embarrassed, yet I was more inquisitive, ergo I prompted looking up at him, "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He gave an insubstantial shrug. "I never scream." It was not a derogatory remark to force me to feel inferior, just a comment Nagi made because he didn't appear to know what else to say. I imagined he was unacquainted with providing people with sympathy. "Are you going to be okay by yourself or..."

_I'll show him how to comfort people._ I sat up straighter and patted the bed to indicate that he should sit. "You can talk to me about your nightmares. You seem to already know what mine are about."

Nagi stood completely frozen for nearly an entire minute as he judged my offer. I couldn't begin to speculate what was filtering through his mind. Eventually, he slowly paced over and seated himself beside me, yet not so close that we touched. "You want to hear my history?"

"If you're willing to tell I'm willing to listen." I smiled encouragingly. He scrutinised me as if I had said something incomprehensible to him. Maybe I did considering the type of treatment he was presumably accustomed to. Uncertainty clouded his features while he excogitated the proposal. I understood; enemies should not affirm their personal cryptic information to one another.

Despite this, he went on to describe his childhood in a hollow tone with a faraway lacquer over his eyes that resulted in it seeming that he was drawling to himself instead of me. "I don't know anything about my parents. They were probably homeless drunks or self-centered rich people that didn't want a baby that mysteriously made objects fall off of shelves when he cried. Either way, I grew up in an orphanage where the employees would force us to do work akin to slave labour in an underground factory as soon as we could walk. It was hot and dark, and they fed us very little so when I was six I ran away.

"The streets weren't much better. I got sick so often that I'm immune to most common illnesses now. Still, I had better food since I could my powers to take things without anyone noticing.

"One day when I was nine I left the car in the junkyard I was sleeping in at the time to get some clothes because I didn't have any that fit. I found a promising jacket up a tree that didn't look like it belonged to anybody. I'd always been short for my age, so I had no hope of reaching the bottom branch and climbing up the tree to retrieve it. My gaze flicked around to ensure that no one was watching and that they wouldn't be for several seconds. Then I raised my hand and the jacket came to me. I had already mastered my skill well. Satisfied, I put it on.

"'Well, that was impressive,' said a voice from behind me that made me jump. A man wearing glasses and a designer suit came toward me.

"'I miscalculated,' I muttered to myself. Nobody was supposed to have seen me. By that time I'd learned not anyone had my ability 'cause when people saw me use it they would beat me for being, as they so eloquently put it, a freak.

"'Miscalculated? Big word for someone so tiny. So, you're psychic _and_ clever." He seemed smug.

"I glared at him, though considering how small I was it feasibly wasn't intimidating. 'What do you want?'

"'I want you to come home with me to get a good meal and a bath.' That sounded wonderful, for I couldn't remember the last time I'd had either, however, you don't spend years on the streets without learning to be wary of strangers and that people don't help each other unless they benefit from it. Only old women gave me stuff for no reason since they thought I was helpless and cute.

"'What's in it for you?'

"'Would you believe me if I told you that I assume one day you'll be very powerful and a valuable asset to me?'

"'No,' I answered truthfully. I thought I was useless street trash that had an abnormality that prevented me from being friends with other children like I wanted to, even if those children didn't sound as smart as me when I hid near them and listened to their games.

"He smirked. 'Then don't worry. There's no catch. I just understand what it's like to be an outsider.' Did he? I didn't think anyone knew how I felt. Alone. Bizarre. Unwanted. I was suspicious, but I want with him anyway. He enacted rich and because I'd been molested twice and beaten countless times I didn't think there was anything new he could do to me.

"I wound up staying with him for several weeks more than I anticipated, and although I perceived him having me lift knives with my mind and throw them at a target weren't normal games for an adult to play with a child he provided me with a semblance of a home and he rarely hit me, so I didn't care." It appeared that Nagi could finally see me again. "Crawford rescued me from the streets even if it was for his own purposes and when I was eleven I started to make my own my money."

My jaw dropped transiently. "You started killing at eleven? Persia didn't have me do a solo mission until I was thirteen." I missed Persia, yet I would not allow myself to develop into a depression when Nagi needed support whether he acted like it or not. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. _You_ did nothing," he stated mildly.

"It's still horrible. You're not a bad person, Nagi, and you didn't deserve that." I decided to take a risk and slip my arms around his shoulders. I was, after all, trying to teach him solace. He stiffened, which did not surprise me since he was most likely unfamiliar with affection, but then he relaxed in my embrace and put his head on my chest. The repetitive rhythm of my heartbeat soon lulled him into slumber.

The light from the other room continued to spill in from the open doorway. It fell upon Nagi's pale face making his skin resemble porcelain. I stared down at Nagi's gorgeous face, noting how his little angular nose was the perfect fit for it. I memorised how his bangs brushed against his closed eyelids and the curves of his short dark lashes. Inexplicably my stare drifted to his lips. They were sleek and thin on his small kissable mouth. Kiss? I desperately wanted to kiss him and he was asleep so he wouldn't know. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him, right?

I leaned closer and could feel his steady breathing. I tasted the air he had just exhaled and felt giddy. My lips touched his gently. They were as soft as I envisioned. I experienced the wonder of his breath flowing in and out of my mouth. I was dizzy with mirth and wished to go further, though I fretted I'd awaken him, thus I settled for skimming my tongue on his upper lip. He might have whimpered with gratification, yet that was probably my own wishful thinking. Nagi was too intelligent to be attracted to a foe.

At least I enveloped him now. I smiled and rested my chin on the top of his head. His hair smelled fantastic. I wondered what shampoo he used. With this thought I too fell into a doze. Content that when I woke I could inspect Nagi again.

**Minerva's Note:** I like this chapter because we know very little of Nagi's past and I enjoyed myself elaborating on it, so I expect at least 4 reviews again, especially since I only received one for my last chappie. It may seem demanding to you, but it upsets me; I work hard on this fic and I don't feel like many people appreciate it.


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five _Nagi's perspective_

When my eyeballs fluttered open I was unsure of where I was, for all I could see was blue. _Ah, I must be looking into Omi's captivating eyes._ I remembered the events of the previous evening. Again I had revealed too much to Omi. I could not resist the temptation. Against my better judgment I was beginning to trust him; it was unyielding not to. Besides, when I was open with him he smiled more than usual and I had grown fond of that smile that had originally irked me. I glanced at the rest of his face. Instead of beaming he was blushing profusely.

It did not take me long to discern the cause. During the night our bodies had become intertwined. My arms were around him and my fingers were lost in his golden hair. His arms were wrapped around my waist and our legs were tangled together. I should have felt ashamed. I should have felt repulsed. I should have felt copious amounts of negative emotions, however, all I felt was aroused and a strange tingling sensation I apprised so seldom it was difficult to recognise. It might have been happiness.

The silence made me more aware of the tingling; therefore I spoke to distract myself from it. "This is an interesting position we're in," I calmly supplied.

"Mmm-hmm. I rather like it. It's nice to hold you, especially since you're an exceptionally beautiful boy that's actually smaller than me," Omi blurted. I raised an eyebrow, a massive display of emotion for me according to some people. "I - I didn't mean that! Well, I did, but I didn't mean to say it...This is worse than when I accidentally told Aya that Persia was my uncle." He sighed apologetically, "I tend to babble when I get nervous." Indeed, he was conducting himself anxiously, even guiltily, which was odd. Had he done something inappropriate or was he fantasising about something he shouldn't?

Provocatively, I dropped one of my hands down from his hair to stroke his cheek and snaked my other hand around to the front of him where I slid it along his torso. I asked with my mouth almost against his neck, "Do I make you nervous?" Nobody could fault me for slightly torturing Omi that way. Anyone who spent time with Schwarz would gain a mildly sadistic mannerism.

Omi's breath caught in his throat; he didn't seem displeased. "Yes, Nagi." Hearing Omi utter my name in such a breathy tone resulted in a jolt of electricity coursing through my body. I was sick of being attracted to Omi. I was tired of not knowing if he yearned for me to. I was sick and tired of being alone in the world. Yes, I could cope with anything on my own, though that did not mean that I wanted to. _I'll do something about it and if Omi isn't interested it won't bother me because I only lust for him. I don't value his opinion or care about him as a person, do I? No way. Definitely not. Keep telling yourself that, Nagi._

I tilted my face upwards and my lips captured his. Omi gasped and I took the opportunity to slide my tongue into his mouth. It was warm and sweet like everything else about him. I savoured the taste, knowing I might not ever experience it again. I relinquished the kiss and viewed him expectantly. Expecting _what_ I did not have a conclusion.

He raised his hand and touched his moist lips in obvious disbelief. Something was in his eyes that I lacked the expertise to identify. This perplexed me. Omi was typically uncomplicated to read. He looked at me speciously wanting me to say something.

Matter-of-factly, I articulated, "That's that, then." I started to pull away from him. Immediately, he grabbed my forearms to hinder my reaction and his lips collided with mine with more dominance than I presumed was within him, though not as aggressive as I had been. As this observation registered Omi's tongue eagerly entered my mouth and my heart rate quickened. Our tongues swirled and massaged one another with such ease it was as if they were performing a familiar ritualistic dance.

My hands comported by a mind of their own. They slipped underneath his shirt and explored the slim muscles and hot flesh. Omi caressed my back before gripping my shoulders and pulling me closer to him with deliciously unexpected desire. He moved his mouth lower and sucked on my neck.

"I make you nervous too, don't I, Nagi?" He panted into my skin. I felt my cheeks colour, an extremely rare occurrence, and did not answer. Hell, yes, he made me nervous! I had bestowed him with the knowledge of my secrets when neither of us compelled me to, and now my body was stimulated too easily by his touch. Some far corner of my mind cognised that I needs to regain my iron self-control, but for incomprehensible reasons I did not care anymore. All I cared about was Omi. My Omi.

I proceeded to nibble his swollen wet lips. My hands inside his shirt removed the article of clothing completely and I marginally shifted my weight so that I was lying on top of him with our thighs pressing together. He groaned in delight against my mouth, which made the blood turn to fire in my veins. I scarcely brought anybody pleasure and I discovered that I enjoyed it. To confirm this to myself and to Omi after licking his chest I kissed him with renewed passion.

How long we remained in each other's enfolds I am not precisely certain. All I'm aware of is that when we finished our breathing was ragged and our bodies were covered with a light sheen of sweat. However long it was it hadn't been long enough.

**Minerva's Note:** Tis impossible to make all of my readers happy, but I try my best, which is why I leave exactly how far Omi and Nagi went just now up to you. If you are of the opinion that Omi is too innocent and Nagi is too reserved for them to have done more than kiss then that is okay, or if you want to believe both of the boys gave into their teenage hormones and went all the way that's fine too. Either way it doesn't effect the plot, so think whatever you wish :.) Personally, I am in favour of the first option.

Anyway, thank you for the reviews; they made me gleeful and bubbly inside! See the little blue box below? Click the "go" button after _submit review_ and I shall be even more glad!


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six _Omi's perspective_

The next few days were some of the most spectacular of my young life, and despite the fact that Nagi never said anything I know that he felt the same way. On various occasions during that cherished period Nagi used his telekinesis to throw me against the wall. This was altered from the instances when we fought because these times I was immensely entertained by what Nagi would do to me while I was powerless to stop him.

Unfortunately, as is the case with all good things, our bliss came to an end.

I was lying on the settee with my head on Nagi's lap. He was absently running his wondrous fingers through my hair as he leaned back with his eyelids gently closed to listen to the instrumental music he had put on. I did not adore or abhor the sound, ergo it didn't vex me that it was playing, particularly since Nagi was touching me.

Nagi's midnight blue eyes suddenly snapped open. "They're here."

I blinked up at him in confusion. "Huh?"

"My teammates are back from Sweden." He peered down at my face intently. "Whatever happens, Omi, I won't let them hurt you." Before I could reply I heard the doorknob turning. Nagi hastily pushed me off of his lap. He stood to face the doorway just as Schwarz ambled inside and deposited their suitcases on the kitchen table.

"I'm glad to be away from there. That man we had to guard was a pain the ass," muttered Schuldich.

Not dignifying this remark with a response, Crawford asked Nagi, "The prisoner was not unduly harmed?"

Nagi nodded almost imperceptibly.

Crawford expelled a bored sort of sigh. "Let's get the questioning over with. I'd like to go to bed."

Calmly and coolly, Nagi stated, "None of you are going to touch him."

"Oh really?" Schuldich marched toward Nagi menacingly, though Nagi stood his ground and maintained a stoic expression. Swifter than I could blink Schuldich had his hand on Nagi's head. I suspected that Schuldich could merely calculate what one was presently thinking from a distance, yet he could obtain any knowledge he desired by grazing their cranium. Equally as quickly as the telepath Nagi tossed him across the room, but Schuldich must have gotten what he wanted because he was smirking. "Evidently our little prodigy wasn't the best one to leave here. He seems to have fallen in love with the kitten."

Farfarello grinned maniacally. "Homosexuality hurts God."

Crawford slowly, dangerously turned his head from Farfarello and Schuldich to examine Nagi again. The light glinted off of his spectacles. "Is this true, Nagi? I foresaw that the two of you would play mature games together, yet I assumed you were smart enough not to let yourself get emotionally attached."

"I love him?" It was an inquiry, not a declaration. He looked as bewildered as I felt. I did not blame him. How could anyone feel anything except uncertainty in such a situation? I was honestly not positive if I loved him either.

"If it's _too emotional_ for you go into your room for a bit while we deal with it," Crawford half-mocked, half-commanded. The telekinetic's music in the background was tranquil; contradicting the tension of the situation. The irony nearly caused m to laugh awkwardly.

"You ought to let him watch," commented Schuldich. "After all, if ruined lives taste like honey then tragic romance and death taste like the silkiest chocolate." What Crawford would have answered was a mystery since Nagi hurled them into a wall. Schuldich laughed while struggling against Nagi's endowment. "You don't stand a chance against all of us." Farfarello yanked a beloved dagger from his pocket and flung it towards Nagi's skull.

"No, Farfarello!" reprimanded Crawford. Was he concerned about Nagi's well-being or did he believe they could get Nagi, and more importantly his powers, back on their side? "Kill Bombay if you're going to murder someone." _I doubt I'll ever find out._

He nimbly leapt out of the blade's path, though it was clear it drained Nagi of energy to move and concentrate simultaneously on keeping them against the wall.

I bent down to pick up the knife, intending to use it to assist Nagi.

"Omi, get out of here," ordered Nagi icily.

"I'm not going to leave you here alone!" I shouted.

Nagi glared at me and I was propelled out of the flat into the hall and down abundant flights of stairs, hearing the door close and lock seconds later. Once the power released me I knew I'd have to go down to the front desk on the ground floor to retrieve an extra key and possibly a letter opener to use as a skewer if I was to be able to return to the flat and help Nagi. I hoped someone would be there; no one seemed to be in the building at this time. When I reached the bottom of the final staircase Nagi's scream reverberated throughout the entire establishment. I cursed under my breath and spun around to dash back up the steps and break down the door if necessary, however, when I placed my foot on the first step it crumbled. The walls shook ominously. My only option was to vacate the area.

Outside, someone grasped my elbow. I would have struggled against them if the hands weren't familiar.

"Ken!"

He granted me a relieved smile. "We've been worried sick about you."

Footsteps were rapidly approaching. I glanced away from Ken and viewed Aya and Yoji. I beamed at them. "It's great to see you guys. How'd you know I was here?"

Aya replied, "It took us the whole damn week to use our resources to figure out you were kidnapped by Schwarz and where Schwartz was." He appeared disgusted. "We need some new resources 'cause you could've been dead by the time we found you."

"So, you missed me?"

The redhead's manner became unreadable as usual. "Your absence was bad for the team, that's all." He wandered off in another direction, though he refrained from going too far.

Yoji rolled his eyes at Aya as he ruffled my hair. "We _all_ wanted you back, Omi."

I was about to inform them that I had longed to see them also when I heard the building collapse behind me. As I turned around to scan the debacle I forgot about my friends' presence, forgot about everything exempt Nagi. Several thoughts went through my imagination, yet the only one that managed to escape my mouth was, "No, it can't be like Hugh!"

Naught fazed the older blond, but my protest undeniably perplexed him. "Who the Hell is Hugh?" queried Yoji.

**Minerva's Note:** Only the 3rd person perspective epilogue remains. I love reading and writing cliffhangers, so this chapter was fun for me, but you readers probably want to murder me. Please review, even if all you wish to do is tell me I should die painfully for keeping you in suspense rather than remark on my characterisation or my writing strengths&weaknesses or the weather. What? I've gotten reviews for things more random than weather, like for example: fruit.


	8. Epilogue

Epilogue

"Who the Hell is Hugh?" queried Yoji.

Omi ignored him and ran to the pile of rubble that had once been a building. "Nagi!"

"Nagi? Isn't he the small Schwartz member that was upset when he thought the girl with the evil umbrella died?" Ken asked Yoji.

Yoji barely nodded. His attention was focused on Omi, who was dragging a limp body out of the debris.

"Please, wake up, Nagi!" he practically screeched.

Aya gaited over to Yoji, Ken, and Omi. He glimpsed the motionless body Omi was cradling against his chest. Aya commented, "Then all of Schwarz is dead. I just saw the other three over there and none of them had a pulse."

"NOOO!" Omi cried, holding Nagi closer.

"Omi, what's wrong with you?" Aya demanded.

"Nagi did this to protect me. He can't be gone. He can't die. Now that he's shown how much he cares I don't want to live without him. I - I love him." His tears fell on Nagi's wan face.

"What!" the others exclaimed in shock.

"Shut up. I have a headache."

A smile lit Omi's features. "Nagi!"

"That's me," drawled Nagi, oblivious to the notion that he'd nearly perished because he had been so concerned for Omi.

The most youthful Weiss member gazed imploringly at his teammates. "He can come stay with us, can't he?"

"Absolutely not. He's an enemy," responded Aya briskly.

"But I love him and I know he loves me even if he won't say it, so I know he wouldn't hurt any of you 'cause you're important to me. He's a great assassin too. Besides, he's all alone now that Schwarz is dead."

"They all died?" interrupted Nagi. "Even Crawford?"

Sympathetically, Omi answered, "Yeah." Nagi bowed his head and took a deep shuddering breath. "You okay?"

Nagi glanced up at Omi. His eyes were dry. "You're all right, so I'll be fine."

Omi smiled warmly before continuing earnestly to the others, "He's all alone now and is too young to be out in the world by himself." Had Nagi's body not been aching in parts he had not previously realised existed he would have objected to that statement. "He wouldn't be any trouble. I'd let him sleep in my room and we'd leave the door open at all times. Plus, he's _really_ quiet and makes spectacular food. Please!"

"Spectacular food, eh?" Yoji stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Aya, maybe you ought to give the kid a break."

Aya reluctantly sighed, "Very well, but only for a night or two."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

One month later Omi and Nagi entered the flower shop.

"Hi," greeted Ken. "How was school?"

By this time Yoji and Ken could mouth the words along with Nagi, for he invariably possessed the same reply: "How do you think it was? It was crowded and loud, and I shouldn't have to go because I know more than the teachers."

Omi said pleasantly, "It was great, thanks. What happened here?"

Ken shrugged. "Nothing exciting. Yoji put neon pink leotards in my closet, so I hit him with my soccer ball repeatedly."

"I know the chibis had a more exciting day," commented Yoji with a smirk. "School let out two hours ago, yet they're just coming home now. I wonder what they were doing for those two long hours." He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively over his sunglasses.

Omi's face became crimson and he stuttered, "Um, we were...you see - er...I, uh, I, uh..."

Yoji's smirk broadened. "I, uh? _Aya_, I think Omi wants you!"

Coming to Omi's rescue, Nagi said crisply, "We got here before the store opened. Does it matter what we were doing?"

"Of course not," supplied Ken.

Ken treated Omi and Nagi like friends, and Nagi enjoyed that; like all of his feelings this attribute was ambiguous to others. Yoji treated them like younger brothers that he was fond of, but fond of annoying them more. Aya always considered Omi a child and occasionally considered him an idiot (Then again, he thought almost everyone was an idiot.), though he clearly cared for Omi since he frequently attempted to protect him. Aya had been displeased when his fellow Weiss members insisted that Nagi be permitted to infinitely live with them, yet he could not disagree with all three of them. He still did not like Nagi, however, he had developed a grudging respect for him since the telekinetic was the only individual that could hold his cold scrutiny with an equally emotionless expression.

Aya strolled into the room. "Quit your gossiping and make yourselves useful. We open in five minutes."

Nagi held up his hand and two aprons instantly gravitated to his palm. He donned one and handed Omi the other.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Little Nagi remembered his manners." Yoji clapped. "We should give him a gold star."

Omi doubled over with laughter and Nagi's dark eyes twinkled with amusement, though he eschewed from grinning. They were recalling when Nagi had mentioned gold stars when he'd been 'kitten-sitting.'

Not comprehending the cause of the laughter, Ken murmured, "Has Omi taken his medication today?"

'Obviously not," chuckled Yoji, beginning to lift up the shop door. He witnessed two pairs of slender calves. He knew those legs. Throwing open the door he enthusiastically welcomed, "Aya-chan! Sakura!"

"Hi, Yoji," they returned cheerfully and meandered over to Aya through the potted plants. Aya-chan embraced him and he actually smiled at her before nodding in acknowledgement to Sakura.

Taking that as her cue, Sakura said, "Your sister and I are going out to dinner tonight. Want to come?"

Yoji reminded Aya, "Manx said we wouldn't have another mission until next week since they haven't decided what type of assignment to send Siamese on, so you can go." Siamese was Nagi's codename because he looked cute, elegant, and harmless.

"All right," concurred Aya.

Omi watched the exchange contentedly. "He loves them." He turned to Nagi. "And I love you."

"I know."

"Let's try again: I love you."

"You should."

"Nagi!"

The psychic allowed himself a minute simper. "I love you too, Omi."

Sakura beamed brightly and Aya-chan ejaculated, "Great! See you later, Ran." The duo scurried out of the store.

Without further ado Weiss opened the shop. They were obligated to endure clingy fan girls and hopefully sell a few flowers.

**Minerva's Note:** If you don't want to believe Schwarz died that's okay. After all, one's pulse usually needs to have stopped for over two minutes before doctors truly know that they're dead. Also, there's a way to make it appear like your heart is not beating (I forget how) and if Schwarz just had a building fall on them they'd know their bodies wouldn't be in the best condition for fighting, so faking death and seeking vengence later would be better. I enjoy this epilogue because I finally got to put a lot of Weiss in the story, but I want to know what YOU think! Please review and let me know.


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